


A Thousand Frames

by Sternstunde



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, a bit angsty i guess, not really - Freeform, what the hell is this even
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 09:59:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14830154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sternstunde/pseuds/Sternstunde
Summary: Kenma dreams of a thousand frames. Every one of them has another shade.





	A Thousand Frames

**Author's Note:**

> IM LOVE U SAM
> 
> A lots of thanks to @paperjam for beta'ing this one shot! Love you, thank you <33

There's something off about the boy with the orange hair, he concludes. Well, it's not like he cares either way, but that stuff catches his eyes and his brain just puts it together.  
  
It just happens, and Kenma lives with it. But honestly, he could care less, he's kind of tired and he didn't sleep last night because he got that new game and of course he tried to set a limit, but it didn't work out, probably never would to be honest.  
  
So, he lays his head onto the surface of the table and tries to ignore the whole whispering around him, and teacher's loud voice. Seconds later, he closes his eyes too, ready to fall asleep but he hears unfamiliar steps along all the other familiar noises, and then there's the orange-haired boy, taking the free seat beside him, and grinning brightly at Kenma.  
  
Way too bright.  
  


* * *

  
  
The boy with the bright orange hair appears in his dreams that night.  
  
He's in one of thousand picture frames, and Kenma blinks.  
  
It's a bit absurd, he muses, unsure how to take that fact in and process it. He hasn't really talked with the boy, their only exchanged words being greetings out of politeness.  
  
So, he doesn't really get it.  
  
And what he understands even less, is why the frame of the boy's picture is bright orange.  
  
A bright orange amidst of thousand blacks, whites and greys.  
  
In a way, it's a terrifying sight for Kenma.  
  
_But he's curious, and God knows that might be his downfall._  
  


* * *

  
  
Kenma is never motivated.  
  
Or at least not most of the time. There's no point in giving his best for something that doesn't have his attention. And almost nothing has his attention, not even the people who are around him, not even his friends.  
  
Maybe, it's the fault of his weird dreams. The ones with the thousand pictures hanging on a wall, all people he knows, all people that he talks to. Or _talked to_ , he guesses. There's no reason to keep in contact with people, that have the potential to stab him in the back.  
  
The frames of the pictures are hues of either grey, black or white. The colors stand for good, neutral or bad. It's not really that simple, because of the different hues, but it's still efficient.  
  
He avoids a lot of horrible people like that.  
  
So, when he sees the orange frames, he wonders, his curiosity appearing. And when he's curious, he's interested, which leads to motivation to find out and satisfy said curiosity.  
  
So, he starts a conversation with the boy. It's awkward, and Kenma admits that he spends 30 minutes trying to calm down and muster the courage to speak up, but it works out in the end and he ends up saving the other's number on his phone and a name.  
  
Hinata Shouyo.  
  
He likes the sound of it.  
  
Hinata is… a lot, is the best way to phrase it. It’s not a bad thing, being a lot, that is. Not in Kenma’s books. But it’s new, because Kenma keeps to himself, always has, and he loves the quiet and breathes it. So, he still isn’t used to all the vibrant colors that make up Hinata’s personality.  
  
_But it’s okay_ , he guesses, _he’ll get used to it, probably._  
  
It’s when Hinata grins at him, eyes sparkling, that he sees the orange a bit.  
  
It makes a bit sense.  
  


* * *

  
  
  
But it only makes sense until it doesn’t.  
  
He’s again in his dream world, and he sees those photographs again. The frames of everyone’s photo is darker than before.  
  
He wonders.  
  
Hinata’s remains orange.  
  
  
  
He’s scared. It takes him a bit to realize, but when he flinches because of how Kuroo’s touching his shoulders, he just knows. He wants to do something, answer Kuroo’s questions, but days pass and he still can’t respond properly. Hinata’s the only one he talks to. Not about the right things, but also not about the wrong ones (even though there’s so much wrong going on).  
  
The frames only get darker.  
  
And then it happens – he dreams, he always does, and all the frames are black.  
  
Except the haunting orange of Shouyo’s orange.  
  
_When did he start calling the other by his first name?_  
  


* * *

  
  
They first kiss under the starry sky – but as romantic as it sounds, it really isn’t. He’s crying, has been too scared to leave his room, because there’s _no one he can trust but Shouyo_ and said boy dragged him outside.  
  
_“You’re not okay”_ , he says.  
  
_“Please be okay again,”_ he begs.  
  
And for once, Kenma isn’t quiet, for once he’s _loud_.  
  
And loud he is – shouts at the other, tells him to go away and he just continues.  
  
And suddenly there are lips on his.  
  
Suddenly, everything’s quiet.  
  
_In his dreams that night, Shouyo’s frames are a duller orange._  
  
The next day, he talks to Kuroo and that night Kuroo’s frame is back to its gray, maybe a bit darker than it once used to be before.  
  
He only understands the night he sleeps being enclosed by Shouyo’s warmth, his bright orange.  
  
In his dreams, Shouyo’s frame is a lively shade of orange.  
  


* * *

  
  
He starts talking to all his friends again, and they tell him that they missed him, whilst they hug him.  
  
He starts to talk with strangers, and a lot are kind.  
  
In his dreams, there are so many light grey to white frames.  
  
And he understands.  
  
So, the next day, when Shouyo and he are outside, sitting on a bench, he asks a question.  
  
“How do you tell bad and good people apart?”  
  
“I don’t tell them apart. I mean, it’s kind of hard to tell, you know? Because everyone has just as much possibility to be good as to be bad.”  
  
He gets it now.  
  


* * *

  
  
Kenma wakes up in his dream and sees a picture of himself.   
  
The frame is a shade of yellow.   
  
In fact, every picture’s frames are colorful now.   
  
He doesn’t see them in monochrome tones anymore.

  



End file.
